Simply Musing
by Yamiko Number 7
Summary: An inside look at Yamiko's extremely erratic writing process, courtesy of her extremely annoyed muse. There is a ficlet in here, I promise. n.n
1. Getting Started

**Simply Musing**

**By: Yamiko #7**

The fanfiction! It lives! Woo hoo!

...It's been way too long since the last time I've written something. Can you tell? n.n

This particular fic should be truly interesting. It's an exaggerated, whacked-out look at the way my poor, abused muses and I write in the frame of an FMA fic so I don't get kicked off (They've removed three of my fics in a week...somebody's not happy with me.) It's not breaking any rules as far as I know...which means I'd better look again, 'cause I don't know much. n.n

By the way, for the purposes of the disclaimer, I own my muses. (Although Musei insists he belongs to nobody...but he's a pain and nobody really ever listens to him anyway.) I also own me. Everything else belongs to somebody else.

Okay! We ready? (Crickets chirp) ...close enough. Let the insanity begin!

* * *

_Chapter 1: Getting Started_

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Museo inquired for what had to be the umpteenth time.

"Umm...yes?"

Museo sighed. Answers in the form of questions only worked on Jeopardy -whenever his authoress used them, something bad was about to happen. "When was the last time you wrote a serious FullMetal Alchemist fic?"

"Never." Yamiko nodded decisively.

Museo sighed again. "Well, okay...let's get started." He pulled The Checklist out from...nowhere (muses, unlike mortal man, are not obligated to explain these things) and began reading off items. "Characters."

"Check."

"Plot."

"Umm...kinda."

Considering the fact they had started fics when the answer to "plot" was "what plot," Museo wasn't worried. Much. He decided to continue anyway. "Laptop."

"Um, duh."

"Fourth wall."

Silence.

"Fourth wall," he repeated.

Yamiko coughed guiltily.

"Do you mean to tell me," Museo said slowly "that you intend to write this fanfiction with NO fourth wall!"

"Well, what am I SUPPOSED to do?" Yamiko cried. "It broke!"

"I told you you shouldn't have written "Servant of Two Masters" and "FullMetal Alchemist and the Philosopher's Stone" at the same time!" Museo replied, frustrated. Neither fic was finished, and both had gotten kicked off for use of script format. "Why don't you go get it fixed? The repair shop's right next door."

"No way!" Yamiko retorted. "That place charges an arm and a leg! Literally! They have a contract with the automail shop down the street!"

Museo blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah, really! I looked it up."

Museo gave his third sigh in as many minutes. "How come you only do research when it doesn't count?"

"Because it pisses you off," Yamiko responded offhandedly. "Can we get started now, please?"

"...Fine." She had written "Dear Diary" with no plot, "All It Takes" with no end, and had no inspiration for the sixth chapter of "The Source of Power." Why shouldn't she write this one with no fourth wall? It certainly kept with the trend. "So what's your opening line?"

"Way ahead of you," Yamiko responded, pointing happily to the screen of her laptop. One sentence had been written.

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night.

* * *

Museo blinked. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope!" Yamiko grinned. "I've always wanted to start a story like that."

"If your next line is "Suddenly, a shot rang out!" I'm gonna be peeved," Museo warned.

"Nah," Yamiko shrugged, continuing to type. "It doesn't fit."

* * *

"Gee, I don't think it's raining hard enough," Ed commented sarcastically to the train window.

Al shot him a look

* * *

"Al can't give him a "look,'" Museo pointed out. "He's a suit of armor."

"Would you let me finish?" Yamiko snapped. And as Museo backed off sheepishly, "Thank you."

* * *

Al shot him a look, or as much of a look as he could muster with a face (and body, for that matter) made of iron. "You don't mean that. If it rains any harder, the train could run off the track."

"Thanks so much for that little bout of optimism." Well, that certainly hadn't lightened his mood any. "Of course I didn't mean it. If the train ran off the tracks, we'd have to evacuate. Then we'd actually be standing outside in that storm." This was all said with a completely straight face.

"Always good to know where your priorities are," Al answered lightly.

Ed had the distinct feeling he'd been insulted. He let it go. He wouldn't win the ensuing fight anyway, so why bother?

Al tried to lighten the mood. "Where are we headed, again?"

It didn't work. "Some podunk little town called Rien."

"It's not necessarily...podunk..."

"It wasn't on the map, Al." Ed was warming up for a rant. "The guy at the train station had to draw it on. He used the point of a pin dipped in ink. It's podunk.

"Not only that," he continued, volume rising with his rant and his temper. "It's out East, so if that stupid colonel finds out, he'll be cheezed off that we didn't go visit him! I can see him now," -he launched into a melodramatic imitation of Roy- "'Oh, Fullmetal, why didn't you come see me? Don't you love me anymore?"

"So," he finished from his stance atop the seat (how he got there, even the authoress doesn't know)

* * *

"Do you really have to write that?"

Yamiko blinked. "What? I don't have a fourth wall, remember; therefore, it's not illegal."

Museo sighed. "I'm gonna go get that thing repaired." He strode out the door.

"I'm not paying the bill for your automail!" Yamiko called after him and returned to her typing.

* * *

"So," he finished from his stance atop the seat (how he got there, even the authoress doesn't know), "we have to keep a low profile if we want to get away with this."

"Too late." Al pointed to something over Ed's shoulder.

He turned to see a group of a half-dozen preteen girls watching his impromptu performance with looks of absolute awe on their faces.

"Um," one of the girls ventured, "that man you were talking about...can you get me his phone number?"

Ed turned back around and dropped into his seat, hunching his shoulders and hiding his face (which now matched the hue of his trench coat) from view.

"You do good work."

"Shut up, Al."

* * *

"Oh, great." Yamiko sighed and leaned back in her chair. She'd reached yet another impasse in her fiction with that line. She had two options: she could either put in a page break and change scenes, or she could end the chapter.

"I'd suggest ending the chapter."

She jumped and whirled around to see Museo, holding a neatly repaired fourth wall and reading over her shoulder. Much blinking ensued. "That was fast. And hey- no metal limbs."

"Of course not." Museo acted insulted. Truthfully, he was surprised. His authoress normally wasn't that observant.

"How'd you manage that?" Yamiko questioned.

"I know jujitsu."

Much more blinking ensued. Then-

"Shut up."

"No, seriously, I know jujitsu." Museo began installing the freshly repaired fourth wall in the wiring of the fic. "And I really think you should end the chapter."

"It's not even two pages long," Yamiko protested. "My readers will kill me!"

"Think about it. Where can you go from there?"

"Well," Yamiko replied thoughtfully, "I can always write the first scene in the town..."

"Okay." The fourth wall was proving harder to install than Museo had originally thought. "What's going to happen during that scene?"

"Dunno," Yamiko shrugged offhandedly. "I guess it'll just...come to me."

"Well, have it come to you another time," Museo retorted. "For now, you have homework to do."

Yamiko sighed and pulled up the document for her half-finished World Lit paper. "This sucks."

"No arguing this time?" Museo was genuinely surprised.

"Why argue when you know your opponent is right?" Yamiko scanned the half-page she'd already written. Only two more pages to go. "Man, IB's a bi-"

"If you intend to show this to Emu," Museo interrupted, "then you'd better not finish that sentence."

"Oh." Yamiko blinked once again- "Right." -and got to work on her paper.

Museo rolled his eyes and began for the fifteenth time that day (he had started keeping track) to contemplate his assignment. He was a muse, for goodness' sake. Why was he reminding her to do her homework? Homework killed creativity and made his life harder.

Damn his responsible side.

He sighed and returned to the fourth wall, trying if the red wires connected with each other or plugged into the green jacks. Or did they connect with the yellow wires? He had no clue.

And of course, Yamiko would have lost the instruction manual by now. She didn't call it lost - she simply stated that it was in one of the many drawers of the black hole commonly known as "her desk."

He decided to leave the lost cause of the fourth wall for later and began to read over his authoress' shoulder. She hated it when he did that.

That, of course, was the only reason he did it.

"You misspelled "independent." Twice."

"Darn it, Museo! You're my muse, not my homework helper!"

Wow, she was peeved. English tended to do that to her. He decided to leave before she started throwing things at him. He headed out the door- "I love you too." -and turned the corner, narrowly avoiding the day calendar aimed where his head had been.

Maybe somebody else would have an instruction manual. He certainly hoped so.

* * *

Okay, so I got a little carried away. n.n The FMA fic has a plot, I promise. You just kind of have to dig around a little to find it. Hopefully the next chapter will have more fic and less muse. (He can get really annoying.) By the way, the World Lit paper has been successfully completed. Now for the grade... (cringes)

Thanks so very much for sticking with this endeavor in insanity and see you next chapter!


	2. Kill the Ambiance

**Simply Musing**

**By: Yamiko #7**

And after the insanity that was Chapter One, I dare once again to show my face in the world of fanfiction. What, me crazy? Never...

I've also discovered that this relaxes me. Between the testpaperpapertest that is IB and the homeworkscholshipscholarshipapplicationhomework that is...well, home, this is a very welcome break. Fanfiction therapy: it's not just for squares. (Laugh) But then, I'm in IB and by definition a square, so who am I to say?

By the way, that World Lit paper, the one I said was done...I was wrong. Revision time. (Sigh) Shoot me. No, scratch that - shoot the guy that thought up the concept of the World Lit paper. I'm too young to die! n.n'

So between homework and revisions and scholarship applications and the rest of the general crap that eats the majority of my free time, I am indeed writing. Kinda.

Shall I continue?...don't answer that. I'm doing it anyway. n.n

* * *

_Chapter Two: Kill the Ambiance_

"I want to end that there! But I can't! Because I have to put this in there! And if I end it there there won't be any other place to put this! And I have to put this in! It's actually important to what little plot I have! But I really want to end it there! AAAAH!"

Fourth wall in one hand and instruction manual borrowed from Emu (he hadn't thought Emu even HAD a fourth wall, let alone an instruction manual) in the other, Museo sighed. "I take it you're working on Chapter Six."

"How'd you know?" Yamiko blinked. "And when did you get back?"

"Comedy never frustrates you like that," Museo replied calmly, "and thirty seconds ago."

"Oh." Yamiko blinked again and pulled a rapid subject change. "So, what do you think of the game?" she inquired, gesturing towards the blaring tv.

Museo just shook his head. "I don't understand it, and I don't try to. Why do you call it "football" when you mostly handle it with your hands? Why do you name your tournaments after "bowls"? And what's so "super" about this one?"

"The commercials," Yamiko answered promptly.

"Why!" Museo burst out in frustration. Then, composing himself, "never mind," he got back to the fourth wall.

"Bwah, bwah, bwah," emanated from the hall.

"You're off," Yamiko called. "I made the joke a while ago."

"I know, I know!" came the voice from the hall. "I only just learned to work this thing, gimme a break!"

Museo stiffened. _It couldn't be...they sent her back to the academy...it just couldn't be..._

"Hello!" A young girl with flaming hair bounded over the gate and into Yamiko's room. "I'm back!"

_It was._

"Why do you have a baby gate here anyway?" She poked at it with her toe.

"We got a dog, remember?" Yamiko reminded her, typing away with one hand and gesturing lazily with the other. "We had to put the cat's food in here and that gate up to keep him from eating it."

"Ohhh..." The girl nodded slowly, perching on the edge of the gate - "Right." - and promptly toppled over, taking the gate with her.

Between his authoress, the fourth wall, and now THIS, Museo had quickly run out of patience. "Darn it, Musea!" A vein throbbed just south of his left temple.

Flat on her back in the hall, Musea rolled lightly to her feet and laughed. "Some welcome." She righted the baby gate and hopped back into the room. "Lighten up, man."

"Yeah." Yamiko nodded sagely, poking the throbbing vein with a green plastic ruler. "That can't be good for your health."

"_You_ are the one who's not good for my health," he murmured, frustrated. It didn't help that the instruction manual was incomprehensible. "Get back to your story before the readers kill you."

"Right!" Yamiko turned back to her laptop, what little powers of concentration she had remaining focused on her fiction in progress.

* * *

The night was still dark. And still stormy. And it really hadn't done anything for Ed's mood, except maybe make it worse.

It didn't help that Al got the umbrella. Sure, there was logic behind it: he needed it more than Ed did...but still, it irked him to have to make do with nothing but his already-sopping-wet coat over his head with the futile hope that it would stop the icy rain from dripping down the back of his neck.

"Are you okay, nii-san?" Al sounded concerned.

"Fine," Ed grumbled. "Just fine. Now let's go find an inn."

"Do you think there's even one here?"

"Oh, how the hell would I know, Al?" Ed complained. "Let's just go look."

"There's one the next street over," came a voice from behind them.

"Oh, thank you," Al responded, turning around. Then, "Colonel! What a surprise to see you here!"

Ed gave an involuntary twitch. It was official: this day could not _possibly_ get any worse.

"Oh, Fullmetal," Roy draped the arm that wasn't holding his umbrella around Ed's shoulders, "why didn't you come see me? Don't you love me anymore?"

Several girls huddled under the lip of the train station roof poked each other and pointed at Roy, tittering excitedly.

Ed gave an involuntary twitch. He was wrong. It was worse.

"You realize," Roy pointed out, "transmuting your arm into an umbrella would be much more effective than that sodden coat."

Ed snapped out of his fury funk to see Roy doodling on his sleeve with chalk. He quickly batted the chalk into a nearby mud puddle and brushed the beginnings of a transmutation circle off his sleeve, growling, "Nobody transmutes my arm but me!"

"And not very well at that," Roy quipped, not at all deterred by the loss of his chalk.

Ed just glared.

"So, Colonel," Al began an inquiry with the intention of breaking the tension, "what brings you all the way out here?"

"I came out here to follow up a report filed by my assistant." Roy waved his hand as if a two-day train ride from Central was just no big deal. "I don't believe you've met."

The assistant, who had until recently gone unnoticed in the light of Roy's overwhelming personality, smiled. "Hello. My name is..."

* * *

"Why did you stop there?" Museo had given up on the fourth wall and was now reading over his authoress' shoulder.

"Reader contest!" Yamiko threw her hands up and squealed.

Museo blinked quizzically. "What?"

"It's simple." Yamiko took her arms down and began to gesture wildly in an attempt to aid her explanation. "Whichever reader can leave the best reason in their review as to why they should be in the fic will be in the fic. Simple, huh?"

"Do your friends count?" Musea inquired from her perch on the bed.

"If they leave reviews and give me a good reason." Yamiko nodded decisively.

"Oh...kay." Museo poked the small of Yamiko's back, causing her to squirm. "Homework time."

"Aww..." Yamiko whined, rising and pulling papers out of her backpack. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to write an obituary for Stalin?"

"You could write it from the point of view of hell," Musea suggested.

Yamiko considered this for a moment, snapped her fingers, pointed at Musea - "Dude. You're awesome." - and sat down happily with her paper.

Museo just sighed. He had a feeling that he'd be doing a lot of that soon.

* * *

So that's it! Chapter Two is finally finished. It only took me a little more than a month...but hey, I have school too. I've been staying late recently - oral review sessions of complete and total doom. (Sigh) Oh well. At least I have time to study.

And I was serious about the reader contest. The person who gives me the best reason why they should be in the fic will indeed be in the fic. That is, if any of you would want to be in this madness...n.n

So, yeah. It's late, I'm tired, I'm also done. Thanks for the read, R&R pretty please, and see ya next chapter!


End file.
